Every now and again, I have one of those weekends that seems to transcend reality — where I live fantasies rather than imagining them. I had a recent weekend that was one of these. It was hot, sexy, connected, flowing, and affirming. It was, in a word, amazing. So let’s get right to it …
I drove into the city with excitement. The dusk was settling in, and the city lights glowed with a sparkling orange and yellow hue, appearing like a pile of treasure as I emerged from the mountain pass. I was on my way to a queer play party. For those who don’t know, queer is a word that people use as a sexual identity. It essentially means a very open individual who is attracted to the person, not the parts. It can also mean someone who does not see themselves as “normal” in any way, shape, or form. These are people who break molds and choose to be authentic, rather than create a box to dwell in. At least that’s how I interpret it. And a play party? Well, in the context of consenting adults, a play party is sexually open atmosphere when people are encouraged to safely explore fetishes and new erotic experiences in a contained environment. There ain’t no pinatas and Spongebob. Unless that gets you off, of course.
I had plans to meet with my dear guy friend and lover, Otter, at the party. When he and I get together, there seems to be some kind of magic energy that happens, and we tend to have really incredible experiences together. The fact that he would be there made the potential for sexy, mind-blowing interactions much, much more plausible. In fact, it pretty much guaranteed it. I arrived at the party early and was greeted by the door people, short-haired smiley women with curvy bodies, flashy clothes, and low voices. I was a little intimidated, as I was dressed in simple jeans and a plaid shirt, and I felt a little out of place among these radical queer women (assuming they all identified as female). But they greeted me warmly, welcomed me inside and gave me the low-down on how the party worked.
“Here you can see three different sets of bead necklaces,” one of them began as she pointed at three mannequins who were wearing the items. “If you wear red beads, it means you are just here to watch and do not want to participate. Yellow beads means you are interested in maybe playing, but you want to be asked first. And green means that you are up for anything and here to play!”
Not knowing who would be at the party and what kinds of things would go down, I opted for the yellow beads. The hostess then explained that it was a party based on consent and that there were several stations available for play, such as a spanking station, candle wax, and private playrooms. I was then directed to a place to check my clothes should I want to undress. I quickly removed my pants and shoes, keeping my plaid shirt and underwear on, since I was a bit cold. Looking around, there were only a handful of people there, and I bumped into a few acquaintances who were on their way to the bondage station. I had only chatted with them a few moments before I saw Otter walk up behind them, wearing his usual: a well-worn, slightly ripped t-shirt and well-worn, slightly ripped jeans. I smiled when I saw him and saw his lovely smile in return, chipped tooth and all. We kissed and embraced, and I smelled his body odor, sweaty from his bike ride. As always, it was was intoxicating. In typical Otter fashion, he already had the green beads on.
“Well, I think I’ll go get undressed now!” He said as he laughed and walked to clothes rack, removing everything but his underwear. Now the party was really getting started.
Otter and I mingled a bit until we bumped into a familiar face. Redd was a man I had been on a date with a while back and kind of lost touch with. He was a student counselor at a local university and identified as 100%, unequivocally gay. Zero interest in women. During our date all those months back, he’d told me a story about how he tried to have sex with a lesbian friend of his. Both of them got really freaked out and stopped immediately upon realizing how weird and foreign their body parts were to one another. Yes, Redd loves men. And only men.
He sported a thick beard and wore a beautiful smile. And that was all he wore aside from his tight underwear hugging a generous-looking package. Otter and I embraced him and exchanged friendly words about how excited we were to see each other again. Redd quickly introduced us to a gay friend he’d brought along, John. John was a wonderfully thick-bodied, black bear of a man. I immediately felt a connection with John — his warm and welcoming eyes and soft, calm voice drew me in. I noticed how strong and sure his hands appeared. Definitely the kind of man I enjoy a good cuddle and make out session with.
Wasting no time, the four of us began our exploration into the deeper sections of the playroom. We watched a butch lesbian woman whipping and tying up a gorgeous trans woman. We enjoyed perusing the spanking station and witnessing some serious paddling going on. And, finally we found an empty station — the candle wax chair. Situated in a corner with dozens of lit candles surrounding it, it had a particular erotic allure that had all of us remarking how sexy the whole scene was.
“I say we drip some hot wax on Otter,” I suggested, ready to start playing. Of course, Otter was more than happy to oblige, hopping onto the chair and submitting his body to our whims. Redd, John, and I began slowly drizzling the hot wax onto Otter, beginning with his arms and working our way to his nipples and abdomen. Otter moaned pleasurably and twitched his body with every drip of hot wax. Our hands traveled all over his body, and eventually our lips did, too. Soon I was making out with Otter and kissing his neck and nipples. Redd leaned in to kiss Otter, as well, and then I locked lips with Redd. John continued massaging and dripping wax all over Otter’s body until there were few places left to cover. The wax quickly dried, and then we cleaned every morsel off Otter’s body with more sensual touch.
It was John’s turn next, and I was excited to explore his smooth skin and tufts of curly black hair scattered all over his body. After lots of wax, I began delicately playing with his nipples and subtly biting them. John ran his fingers through my hair and down my back, grabbing my ass. He was definitely enjoying himself, as the others continued their waxing and touching.
We could have stayed at the candle wax station all night, but in typical Otter fashion, my dear guy friend suggested we change the scene. He wanted to try some erotic shock. The four of us moved to the static shock station, where there were tools to stimulate and awaken every ounce of skin on a person’s body. Once again, Otter, who was in a very submissive mood, volunteered to be first. And so me and my two accomplices got to work playfully shocking and loving Otter from head to toe. Otter’s moans encouraged us to continue for quite some time.
After a while, I began to get thirsty, so I stepped away from my male cohort to grab a drink and maybe explore something different with other folks in attendance. I once again made my back to the BDSM station, where the two ladies were still at play. I enjoyed watching the skillful application of rope by the dom female to the sub trans woman. Just then, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a curvy woman in bra and panties sitting alone on the candle wax chair. Our eyes met and smiles were exchanged for a few minutes until I decided to wander over to see if she wanted to play a little. “I thought you’d never ask,” she replied with a disarming smile, her striking light green-blue eyes seductively meeting mine. She unclipped her bra and exposed her full, supple breasts. After playing with the men, now I was ready to enjoy a woman.
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